


Spell it out

by A_Quiet_Place



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Desperate Fate, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, dense Graves, graphic smut, not so graphic F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24298105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Quiet_Place/pseuds/A_Quiet_Place
Summary: Fate seems to go for the women Graves has already bedded. When he gets caught doing so, more than once, he can't keep his reasons to himself any more.
Relationships: Malcolm Graves/Twisted Fate
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	Spell it out

**Author's Note:**

> Not my monkies, just my circus.  
> Intended for adult readers.
> 
> Probably the most in depth porn I have ever written, I can't tell if it's getting better, worse or both.
> 
> Slow plot start, raunchy plot finish

Twisted (Tobias) Fate and Malcolm Graves have become something of a well oiled machine.

They've been running together as heist partners for two years now. Both at the peak of their youth, full of grand ideas and possibilities.

And vigor.

So much vigor.

Tobias has a new woman in his bed every night – even when they are sharing an inn room in some backwater suburb or town. It's become something of a running joke that only Fate finds funny, Graves just doesn't care enough to be bothered by it.

Like tonight, Graves comes to the room late; dog-tired and ready to sleep. He kicks the door open unceremoniously isn't at all surprised to see Fate already going at it with some poor thing he'd picked up. The room is dark but he can make out the outlines of two figures in the dim light from the hallway.

“Don't worry none, Sweet-Thing.” Graves hears Fate's low drawl husk with amusement. “Malcolm doesn't mind any. Hell, if you ask him real nice he might even join in.”

For a moment there's a stunned silence before she starts giggling and resumes riding Fate's dick like it's going to grant her three wishes.

Graves lets out a huff, he moves over to his bed, ignoring the gasps and laughter and any further details he can't see, (and frankly doesn't want to). He pulls the musty blankets from his bed, then turns and walks right out the door again.

He hears Fate murmur, “Ain't that a real shame?” Before swinging the door shut behind him, and stalking off down the hallway in search of a comfortable alcove to rest in.

Fate's behavior isn't surprising, not in the least. Graves can't fault him any, as he has his own fair share of dalliances; although those are _usually_ in a brothel. Or if he's feeling a little frisky, like earlier on today, against a back alley wall somewhere.

Graves sinks down against the corner he's picked out as his bed. Tonight he's just too damn tired to kick up any kind of stink about it, and the encounter is bugging him something fierce – but hells if he can bring why to mind.

Despite the distance he is from the room, he hears Fate's bed-mate giggle again, loudly. The sound echoes around in the cavern of his mind, just as he is about to fall asleep. He frowns, in his semi-lucid state at how it pairs up a little suspiciously with the young brunette he'd shared bodily fluids earlier today.

Typical that Fate would find her so quickly.

\----ooo----

They spent the last two weeks wading through marshes and swamps so dense Graves is almost certain he left a leg behind somewhere in the sucking mud.

It's a relief to finally be on solid ground, out of the damned rain that seemed to have followed them all the way here. He feels itchy – just constantly itchy, covered in flea and mosquito bites.

Fate seems to have fared little better but he certainly makes a show of pretending otherwise.

His eyes are sharp and clever, dancing around the run-down buildings of the piss smelling town they are in.

They find an inn that looks like a loud fart would knock it down, with the smell to match, but it's cheap and it's above all else, dry.

They're drying off by the fire, cloaks and hats draped over the backs of their chairs. A boiled chicken breast with something vaguely resembling mashed potato and perhaps peas set out before them. They're both too exhausted and hungry to notice their chicken is trying to slide toward freedom from it's pool of fleshy water.

“Heads, you get the supplies, tails I do.” Tobias is grinning at him, showing all his pretty perfect teeth.

Graves narrows his eyes.

“Only if it's my coin, and I flip it. I'm not tired enough to fall for your cons.”

Tobias looks dramatically affronted at the suggestion, but he doesn't get to argue. A feisty young thing with short brown hair approaches them with a large pitcher of ale in hand and a few cups. She's cute, nimble, wiry with street muscle. Graves watches her casually eye their pockets for coin as she places the jug heavily in front of them.

“You boys aren't from around here.” She accuses with a smile, “looks like you've been through the ringer.”

Graves exhales and gives her a tired chuckle while Fate leans in, his eyes alight with opportunity.

“No, Ma'am, we're not.” He says, a slow smile crawls across his face. “Though I'd gladly walk through that ringer another two times just to hear your sweet name.”

Graves snorts loudly and shakes his head.

“Would you?” She smiles, her dark eyes lighting up with mischief, “it might give me a chance to chat up your friend here.” She looks at Graves then, raising her eyebrows in question.

Graves feels a grin split his face. Fate looks like he's just been shot in the gut.

“Berina” She winks at Graves, before seating herself on his lap.

It's a little less than an hour later that she and Graves are in a store room. She has her legs wrapped around him as they fuck against a barrel. There's not a lot else to it, they've both only dropped their pants and opened a few buttons here and there. It's pure animalistic rutting and neither of them are complaining.

The moment they're both done she pulls her pants up and straightens her blouse. Then, for good measure, slaps him on the backside and flashes him a cheeky grin as she strolls back out into the dining hall to finish her shift. Graves allows himself a smirk as he fixes himself up – double checking his purse, (which is a little bit lighter, but nothing he has an argument with) and follows her out a handful of minutes later.

Fate is gambling at a table in the corner when Graves comes into view – but his eyes meet Graves' with a sparkle of amusement and a wink. Graves ignores it, deciding instead he will run those errands they had been discussing.

Like hells he's going to put up with Tobias trying to embarrass him all night.

\----ooo----

It's a bit over two hours later when he makes it back to the inn.

The kitchen has shut and only the late night drinkers are still faithfully at their seats. Fate is missing from his gambling perch, and there's no broken furniture or blood splatter left behind – which means he didn't get himself into any trouble, but also means he has a lady friend in their room.

Graves lets out a weary sigh as he heads upstairs. He had been looking forward to a bed, maybe even a bath. He's tempted to just throw them both out into the hall so he can have a decent night. The closer he gets to his door the more promising that idea sounds, and by the time his hand has rested on the door handle he has decided that is exactly what he is going to do.

As he unlocks the door, he takes a breath and steels himself for whatever horrors he's about to witness, and swings it wide open.

Then he's frozen on the spot, mouth agape in shock.

It takes a moment for his brain to catch up with what he's seeing, but when it does it all comes in a flood.

Fate is with a woman, he's shirtless, his pants open and low on his hips to give him room. He's slamming into her from behind... on Graves' bed.

The woman is in fact, Berina, the same barmaid from earlier this evening, gripping the sheets and moaning into the bed, her clothes shoved up and down to give Fate access to her body.

Fate is gripping onto her cloak- no, Graves' mind struggles to supply, it's not hers, but it is familiar.

It takes Graves far too long a moment to realize she's wearing his serape.

Fate's gaze has locked onto Graves' while he thrusts into her, a wicked smirk on his face that turns slightly slack with pleasure a moment later. He never breaks eye contact, and despite his gaze being hazy with lust there is a deep resolve in his stare that sends as chill down Graves' spine.

“Th'fuck.” is all Graves manages to get out.

He doesn't know how long he stands there. It's like his mind has just decided to shut off and leave him to the mess of a situation.

He should leave. Should _have left._ But he hasn't moved from his spot in the door way. Fate lets out a strangled sound, something that sounds suspiciously like _'Malcolm'._ He slams into her a few more times, and then goes slack, panting heavily, staring right at Graves as he pulls out of her. His hands are gripping the serape so tight his knuckles are white.

Berina is laughing breathlessly as she relaxes into the bed. It's now that she notices Graves in the doorway. He can't say what his expression is, but it must be something spectacular because she lets out a little yelp of surprise then hurriedly scrambles to get out of the bed. She nearly chokes herself on the serape in the process, as Fate just hasn't let go of it. She ducks out of the garment and hastily grabs her clothes up off the floor, but at this point has started to laugh again as she makes a dash across the room.

It's her wink followed by the slap on his arse as she darts around his body that brings Graves back into himself.

He starts and takes an involuntary step forward and she pulls the door shut behind her with a resounding slam.

He's left staring at the wood of the door for a moment before he remembers Fate is still in the room with him.

It's with reluctance he turns his gaze back to Fate – who has at least tucked his dick away, but has propped himself up on Graves' pillows. Graves' serape is now wrapped around his shoulders, and he's watching his partner with all the self satisfaction of the cat who got the cream.

“What. Was that?” Graves finally manages to spit out, finally feeling anger rise up in him.

“What did it look like?” Fate drawls lazily, nestling back into the pillows.

“This ain't the time for your games, Tobias.” Graves growls and steps forward, deciding that he is going to wring his partners neck. “It looked like you were taking sloppy seconds on my bed.”

Fate has the nerve to let out a deep sigh of impatience. He shakes his head with a crooked little smile and seems to come to some sort of decision Graves isn't privy to.

“I like playing the long game, but Malcolm, you're about as dense as they come. Guess I got a bit tired of waiting for you to figure it out.”

“I'm about three seconds from wrapping my hands around your neck.”

Fate smiles and rolls his head back to expose his throat.

“I'm a bit worn out, but I think if it's you I could go another round.”

“What th'fuck has gotten into you?” Graves growls, determined not to fall into whatever trap Fate has planned for him.

“Guess I'm gonna have to spell it out.” Fate leans forward, catching Graves' eyes. “I've been fucking anyone you've fucked for the past year, Malcolm. It's just taken you this long to notice.”

Graves splutters a bit and let's out an incredulous noise.

“Why the hells would you do that?”

Fate looks like he'd just asked something incredibly stupid, but there's a fond look in the way his eyes crease. He hauls himself up off the bed, approaching Graves slowly as if trying not to spook him. His steps are slow and measured, like a wildcat stalking, and Graves has the strange impression he's being eyed up as prey.

“Because...” He let's the word drag out as he comes within spitting distance. “It's the closest I could get to fucking you.” Fate watches his expression like a hawk, his shoulders are tense even though his expression is almost painfully earnest.

Graves can just about feel all his conscious thoughts up and leave his brain – slamming the door behind them. He can only stare, his eyebrows raised so high they must be about to crawl into his hairline.

Fate watches him closely, but when it seems like Graves is not going to be able to say much to his statement he huffs in bemusement. He reaches out, and very slowly takes a hold of the collar of Graves' shirt. Using it as leverage, he pulls Graves toward him and leans in to press his mouth to Graves' ever so gently.

Graves' knee-jerk reaction is to pull away, but Fate grips his collar tighter and holds him in place enough so that he can kiss more insistently for a few more moments, before he lets go.

As Fate pulls away, his face tenses up like he's expecting to get punched.

The idea had crossed Graves' mind, but even while the alarm bells and panic are going off inside his head his body just doesn't seem to know what to do with itself. That coupled with the fact that Graves has never seen him look so insecure just has him frozen in some medley of fright and the notion that he actually might be dreaming.

A few tense seconds flow by, where Fate is waiting for Graves' response. His is expression serious, perhaps a little worried. It's under such scrutiny that Graves' first reaction is an unconscious one. He licks his lips while the shock settles in his mind – then grimaces a little and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

He sees Fate flinch and amazingly turn a little red.

“You taste like you were eating her ou-..aw hells, Tobias!” He shoves Tobias' shoulder and wipes his mouth again.

Fate lets out a shuddering breath. His eyes are half lidded, the deep blush growing on his cheeks, but not from embarrassment.

“I could taste you, in her.”

Graves freezes. His eyes wide in disbelief until he sees the seriousness in his partners expression.

“I want you. I've wanted you since we first met. I ain't going to lie about that.” Fate's voice is pitched low, urgent. “If you give me a chance, I could show you- I-.. Let me show you?”

Graves can only hear the sound of his own heart beating loudly in his ear drums.

Nothing surprises Malcolm Graves. Nothing, except, apparently for Tobias Fate.

\----ooo----

Graves can't believe he has agreed to this.

He's sitting on the toilet staring at the small rubber bulb in his hand incredulously.

The whole process of using it has been beyond uncomfortable – not to mention, the least erotic thing he has ever done.

“ _Every_ time?” He'd asked, when he'd taken it from Fate's hands, voice a little higher pitched than he would like. Fate had only nodded trying to look a little more relaxed than he was feeling.

_Every time._ Graves repeats in his head, now. _Who the fuck has the need for this?_

Despite his misgivings, his heart is beating hard and his body is tingling with anticipation; like his first time with a girl all those moons ago. He doesn't understand why he has accepted Fate's offer, he also doesn't know why the thought makes his mouth dry. Fate's eyes had just filled with the kind of want Graves has never seen before, he's curious.

Not to mention, Fate's cock is – well it's shaped good. Real good.

If he's half as good as he and the screams from all those ladies claim, Graves is intrigued.

Graves takes a deep breath and tidies himself up. He foregoes getting redressed proper, just keeps his pants on with the belt undone, exposing his hairy chest and belly. It takes him a few moments before he's ready to open the door and step into their shared inn room.

Fate is leaning nervously against the far wall in a loose shirt and his breeches. He straightens up too quickly when Graves steps out. His eyes are flicking over Graves with a mixture of anxiety and hunger.

Mostly hunger.

It makes Graves shiver a little. His cock gives an interested little throb in his pants.

When the silence stretches out, Graves scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat.

“It's done. Now what?” Smooth. He grimaces internally.

Fate just lets out a relieved little laugh and steps over. He makes no move to disguise his intentions or his lust – his eyes pierce Graves with naked want. He slides his arms around Graves' shoulders, pulling him in unceremoniously. The searing kiss that follows catches Graves by surprise and he can't help the gasp that Fate smothers with his tongue.

It starts slow, but Fate seems to be a little more impatient and he deepens the kiss when Graves doesn't resist.

It's not bad -- getting better. Graves opens his mouth to it and Fate takes full advantage. He lets out a little moan and sucks and bites at Graves' lips. His lithe form presses against Graves' and the line of his erection – fully hard and unapologetic, presses into Graves' hip.

Graves' body doesn't hesitate to respond in kind. The kiss turns sordid, their bodies rubbing and hands groping against each other until they have to pull back for air.

“Fuck, Tobias.” Graves pants into his mouth. His hands are gripping Fate's backside and clutching him close so he can grind their clothed cocks against each other.

Fate stares at him, mouth flushed pink and bruised from the kiss.

He maintains the eye contact even as he slowly drops to his knees, dragging his mouth lightly against the heated skin of Graves' chest. His clever fingers pull Graves' pants open before he pauses, Graves' cock exposed, to ask permission with only a cocked eyebrow and a devastating little smirk.

Graves swallows thickly, feeling a deep flush from over his face and neck. He nods once, and then Fate's mouth is on him and he never wants it to stop.

The rest seems a blur, Fate sucks him until he's right on the edge of coming, then leaves him throbbing in the cool room air as he pulls Graves with him towards the bed. They fumble with each others clothes, throwing them away as they come free of their bodies. All the while their mouths are all over each other; pressing open mouthed and searing kisses across flesh.

They're laying naked and rubbing against each other when Fate pulls Graves' leg up over his hip. Soon to follow – cool and teasing fingers work their way down Graves' thigh and squeeze the muscle of his buttocks. He kisses Graves so deeply then that he barely notices when Fates fingers slide a little lower and press between his cheeks.

Graves knew it was going to come eventually, but the action still takes him by surprise. He frowns and grips Fate's shoulders tightly, trying to allow himself to remain distracted with Fate's clever tongue.

It's an uncomfortable process. A burning stretch and a grimace or two almost make him decide he's really not into this at all – when Fate's other hand wraps around their cocks and rubs them together, distracting him entirely from the invasion of fingers.

And then... Fate touches something that makes him jerk back from the kiss with a deep and surprised moan.

That's it. That was the beginning of the end. Fate teases that little spot inside him mercilessly until he's panting and writhing back trying to get more.

The next thing he knows, he's face down on the bed, arse up in the air while Fate fingers him until his moaning with every press. He waits until Graves' is flushed all over and panting before he takes his touch cruelly away. Graves let out an undignified groan of disappointment.

“I got you, Malcolm. Don't worry.” He drawls as he presses something much larger than his fingers against Graves' opening.

There's more burning stretch, more slow movement and an agonizing lack of pleasure as Fate slides into Graves slowly. When Graves glances back over his shoulder, he sees Fate's eyes are fixated on where they join, hungry and blown wide with lust. He's gripping Graves' hips tightly with shaking hands.

Graves let's out a hiss, his mouth is open and panting, his arms are trembling with the effort of holding up his body while his insides are assaulted. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain. A sheen of sweat and a deep red blush has lit up his face, neck and shoulders.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Fate sinks all the way in. Graves feels his bony hips press against the meat of his backside firmly before he takes a few blessed moments of stillness. Graves is breathing so loud it sounds like he's run a marathon. The sweat drips down his chest as he struggles to keep from kicking Fate off him.

Fate slowly rolls his hips forward trying to push himself even further inside the tight and suctioning heat of Graves' body. Graves startles, sucking in a deep breath at the movement, causing him to clench around Fate tightly.

Fate hisses a little then leans forward, he changes his hard grip into soothing strokes up Graves' back, and traces a path of soft kisses along his spine.

“Breathe, Malcolm.” Fate mouths into the skin of his neck.

“Easy thing to say when you don't have a cock up your arse!” Graves growls, wincing.

“If you relax it'll feel good.” Fate breathes, Graves can tell he desperately wants to move, his cock is throbbing within it's tight confines, Graves can feel it beating against the own pulse of his tender insides. Instead he gently places a palm in the center of Graves' back and presses, urging him down.

“Put your chest on the mattress.”

Graves grumbles through a clenched jaw but slowly complies, allowing himself to be directed so his arse is up in the air, exposing the rim of his hole to Fate's stare. It's red, stretched and gripping to Fate so tight.

“Fuuuck.” Graves let's out, biting onto the sheets under his cheek. It does feel better, the sting isn't quite so bad from this angle. He even manages a few deep breaths, enough to let his shoulders relax. His hole finally let's go of it's death grasp on Fate's cock, and Fate very slowly pulls himself out, until just the head of his dick is inside. A groan leaves his throat as he pushes back in, the slide of the lubricant easing his way so smoothly it's like Graves is welcoming him home.

Graves let's out a strangled sound as he's filled once more, the invasion not quite pain or pleasure, just discomfort; the feeling of being too full and the burn of the stretch.

The following thrusts seem to be easier, at least the sting is dulled, to a pain that Graves can tolerate. He exhales heavily into the bedding and allows himself to breathe slowly.

“There you go.” Fate praises and rocks his hips forward slowly, his eyes hooded with pleasure. He thrusts once more a leisurely roll of his hips.

“I've got a gift for you, Malcolm.” His drawl is a little warmer, tinged with pleasure.

“If you stick anything else in me I'm gonna slug you.” Graves growls, trying to make himself comfortable enough to last through this trial.

Fate grins and grips Graves' hips, angling him upward a fraction more, and then pushes down as he enters Graves once again. The bulbous head of his cock slides along the top of his hole, and continues its drag along his insides until it rubs over that same spot his fingers had been pressing into. It makes Graves' breath hitch. A startled gasp pulls from his lips as a shock of pleasure runs along his spine.

Fate let's out a pleased groan and pulls the head of his dick back to revisit that spot as he drives in, over and over again, abusing the flesh. Graves' doesn't know what to do or where to put his hands, he settles for gripping the edge of the mattress as an unfamiliar pleasure shoots through him every time that thick cock head rubs along his insides.

Fate lets his hips roll like he's dancing, undulating to his that same spot repeatedly. His eyes are fixed on Graves' face, his jaw slack with pleasure. He slides one hand beneath Graves and strokes along his soft cock, coaxing it quickly into hardness, and Graves' grunts of pleasure turn into something more like a whine. He's pressing himself back into Fate's thrusts now, meeting his body halfway, trying to force Fate deeper than he can go.

They're both panting and grinding against each other, their moans mixing together with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the squelch of the lubricant between them. Graves is thrusting back into Fate and then forward into his hand.

His cock is so hard it almost hurts.

Fate leans forward to suck a bruise into the juncture of Graves' neck and shoulder, he breathes heavily as he whispers against the skin.

“Jerk yourself off.”

Graves let's out a shuddering breath and reaches down, taking over the work Fates' hand had been doing. It allows Fate to straighten up, grip both of Graves' hips and pound into him with progressive speed.

Graves makes a sound that Fate has never heard before – a whimper that turns into a long low keen, his fist jerking furiously in time with the rolls of Fate's hips.

“Fff-fuck. FUCK!” Graves growls and then whimpers again into the sheets, “I'm gonna-”

He doesn't even finish his sentence before he's clamping hard around Fate's dick while his own cock spurts come all over the sheets. His hips continuously shove back into Fate, begging him to keep hitting that spot even though the tightness of his insides have made it almost impossible to move. His scream is strangled and broken off like it doesn't know how to make proper noise any more.

Fate shoves into him as best he can, his own orgasm barely held off as he strives to delve deeper.

Graves collapses against the bed, his body wracked with shudders with his climax still rocking his body. And Fate let's himself go, thrusting in time to his own spurts of come and growling groan pressing between clenched teeth.

He collapses on top of Graves and catches his breath, even as the aftershocks wrack Graves' body, he doesn't pull out. They're both drenched in sweat, but Fate doesn't seem to want to move. He's running his hands over whatever parts of Graves he can reach.

Graves shudders once again and makes a weak noise of protest. It turns into a groan as Fate tries to roll him enough to press a kiss to his lips, seeking some sort of unspoken confirmation.

Graves turns his head away and growls.

“I'm going to need to sleep, bathe and eat. If you try to kiss me you're going to lose your tongue.”  
  
Fate looks a little wounded, his lips part to respond, but Graves wont let him.

“Then we're going to fuck again. I think I need to hear your argument one more time.”

Fate let's out a huff of laughter and sinks back down into the soiled bedding, tucking himself against Graves' back, He plants a teasing kiss on Graves' shoulder before murmuring.

“Anything you say, partner.”

There's a stretch of silence in which Graves' has just about passed out when he hears, next to his ear:

“Does this mean we're gonna share barmaids from now on, or-Oumhf!”

He sucks in a wheezing breath as Graves' elbow finds his stomach.


End file.
